


Beauty in Heresy

by Madam_Red



Category: Man of Steel (2013), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Red/pseuds/Madam_Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jor-El has always hung on a dangerous balance between orthodoxy and heresy; and Dru-Zod often suffers the brunt of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty in Heresy

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly this story will be an excuse for me to write pointless porn without much of a plot. Because I can.  
> Not Beta'd.

Dru likes this part of the morning. As Rao's light reaches over the distant structures of their twisted landscape. As the red sun glimmers along the crystal formations and cascades an array of colours through the shadows. He isn't a sentimental being. He isn't as attune to emotions as some. But he can appreciate the beauty that is before him.

The general allows the silence of the morning to lapse over him, and drinks in the morning breeze. Its peaceful. He carefully keeps his mind empty, and allows that tranquility to bleed into him.

The calm before the storm.

He hears the soft steps approaching him from behind, but does not turn to politely address their owner. Dru can tell by the weight and the rustle of material who is approaching. He becomes aware of the warmth that settles to the left of him, and there are so very few that would dare to linger so close. Even fewer take comfort from his presence. The notion had startled him once, considering he was Kyrpton's protector. He had come to accept that easily, far more easily them he should have. Dru reasoned that he did not need the comfort of many companions in his life. His job was not to please people-- it was to guard them. Keep them safe. It was his sole purpose in life to protect his nation. He did not need to make them happy doing it-- that was just an added bonus.

The warmth settles even closer, a brush of fingers have settled upon his shoulder to draw him from his musing. Dark eyes roll over to settle upon bright ones. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and Jor's smile is warmer then the stray touch that lingers longer then it should. Zod only gives a nod, and glances back towards the scene before him. He is not a man of many words, and instead his actions speak in volumes that he knows Jor has become adept at understanding.

The warmth lingers and Dru considers that Jor-El is in one of his moods. Or at least that is what Zod has come to call them. The moods are defined as a state of mind when Jor-El is spontaneous, unorthodox, and expresses behavior and thoughts that would otherwise be branded as heresy. There is a coil of anticipation on Zod's stomach, and while the General knows that he shouldn't entertain these behaviors, that he is only encouraging them-- he allows them under the condition that Jor-El needs to get them out of his system. Its better this way, Zod decided many cycles ago, to allow Jor to live out these urges where they will pose no harm to anyone else.

Dru gives no physical reaction to how long the touch has lingered, and Jor obviously takes this as an invitation. It isn't long before those slender fingers have drifted across the General's broad shoulders and are hooking into the muscles along them. His body stiffens slightly, and the touch hesitates for a few heartbeats before it regains its confidence. The thin material that separates the touch from being direct suddenly doesn't feel like enough and Dru can't help the fact that he becomes uncomfortable. He always does. But Jor-El is ever patient when he wants something, and the general is left wondering how the scientist ever learned how to manipulate him so well--

Something _wet_ runs across his chin and Dru startles back as if he's been burned. He stares at Jor with wide eyes, swallowing as he catches the tail end of a tongue slipping back between white teeth. The warmth that had been in Jor-El's expression is now burning in a way that Zod isn't sure he understands. His breathing and heart rate have both accelerated now, and the urge to fight or flee is building. His instincts are roaring at him to get away from this situation. Its dangerous his mind screams at him, and yet he is fixed to the spot as Jor-El advances on him for a second time.

 

He finds a beauty in Jor-El. Or atleast, Dru thinks it is beauty he finds. The man is not good with his emotions and the terms he should use for them. If he can call a sunrise beautiful, can he call the same fire that rises in Jor-El's expression beautiful? Can he compare the grace of Rao to the heresy of his companion? Dru isn't sure. He doesn't like being unsure.

Jor-El reaches for him again, and this time its two hands that come to rest upon his chest. The fingers are resting over his house crest; and Dru stares beyond them to the pale blue eyes that are peering up at him. He identifies the light in those eyes as a type of hunger-- he has seen something similar in the eyes of soldiers who have loved blood shed too much. Its a dangerous thing. Yet this light is different. Dru doesn't have a word for lust in his vocabulary.

He catches he way those eyes lull, and can't help the sinking sensation that he's somehow been doomed. His fate feels sealed as the emblem on his chest is traced lazily while those striking blue eye draw him in. Dru is much more prepared for when Jor closes the distance between them this time, and a hand has slipped up to anchor itself around his neck. The scent of spice and oils lingers on the scientist. It fills the distance between them that is rapidly getting smaller as Jor boldly presses himself up against the larger frame. He's has the scientist this close before-- he isn't unfamiliar with how small Jor-El feels against him. He isn't a stranger to Jor's personal scent either-- but he is unfamiliar to the way those fingers have tangled themselves into his short hair.

A startled noise leaves his throat when Jor-El pulls him down, and he can feel a softness pressing to his own lips. It takes Dru a delayed amount of time to realize that its lips pressing to his own-- and it felt good. He chokes slightly, gasps, and Jor-El seems to only take this as an invitation to lick at him. That hellish tongue washes out against his lips-- and Dru closed his eyes against the taunting sensation. He isn't sure what Jor-El is doing to him-- he isn't sure he wants to know either. Against his better judgement he has stopped fighting.

 

Atleast not until Jor-El bites into his lower lip-- Dru jerks-- but finds himself unable to pull out of the kiss. Jor-El has pressed him back against the glass of the window. Suddenly that softness has been replaced with quite a bit more hunger, and its all Dru can do to arch off the glass and claw at the armour of his friend. This needs to stop, he remembers thinking that before Jor-El _crooned_ into the kiss. That sound seems to trigger something unconscious in him and suddenly Dru has sloppily started returning those kisses. Neither of them are actually experienced at this. He can practically feel the delight from the scientist as he sinks his gauntlets into the smaller's armour and hauls him closer.

They eventual part for air, and Dru is more then aware of the fact he's panting. There is a swell of sensations pulsing through him-- and he can't quite decided what they are. All he can do is stare in an almost drunken wonder at the scientist before him.

"What..." He isn't able to articulate his question right now, and it frustrates him. "What was what?" Dru managed.  
"A kiss," Jor-El teased, unable to hide his grin. Those bright blue eyes are sparked with all kinds of energy, and Dru found himself swallowing. It allows him to ignore the snippy remark.  
"But, why did you..." Dru's voice faded on the end, and he looks so hopeless that Jor reaches up to capture his face between his hands. The scientist seems to be taking his time considering this answer, and bides it by stroking a finger along Dru's lips. The larger resists the urge to shiver.  
"You captured my attention," The way Jor-El says those words, is enough to make Dru-Zod become aware of how close they've remained. There is a low-key to the tone of it that leaves a warmth in the pit of his stomach that twists sharply. Its almost painful when he unhooked his fingers from Jor-El's hip-armour, and instead pushes the younger back to arms length. It doesn't compare to the look of hurt that ripples in those blue oceans eyes before him.  
"Control yourself, Jor-El." Dru says, more harshly then he had intended. Its too late, however. Even as he tries to think of something more to say the seconds that elapse build a deeper hurt in those bright eyes. He isn't familiar with... hurting someone like this. Zod only belated realized that the cold sensation that collects in his stomach is something akin to dread. He's felt it before, but not this strong. Dru isn't good with emotions; or expressing himself. This situation has caught him completely off guard.

"Forgive me, I was wrong to force this on you." Jor-El's voice cuts through his thoughts, and Dru watched as the pieces of their friendship lay bare before him.

"Jor," He tried to advance after scientist, but is easily evaded by the smaller male. Dru grunts and follows after him. "Jor-El, stop." Dru commands roughly, and watches the hesitation linger in the scientists shoulders-- but the General isn't quick enough to catch him and Jor-El vanishes into the bowels of his estate. Zod doesn't know the corridors of the El estate well enough to track the scientist down. Its all Dru can do to keep from growling in a manner that would vibrate along the pillars. But he has more control then that. Barely. But enough.


End file.
